


The Boy, His Father, The Cook and His Baby

by Elle82



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Age Play, Cooking, Cooking Lessons, Gen, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 20:10:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5261849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elle82/pseuds/Elle82
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unexpected guest at Hannibal’s house one weekend leads to an undeserved treat for Frederick Chilton</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy, His Father, The Cook and His Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer, as always - these are all consenting adults, some playing at younger than their biological ages. No real children are involved. Don't like, don't read.
> 
> Part of the little!verse - doesn't need to be read in sequence, but for background etc, check out my fics/bookmarks for other authors. 
> 
> Matty is slightly older in this fic, though he and Frederick still have the little/daddy relationship. There are points when he almost maybe ages up, but it’s only slightly.
> 
> Prompts/ideas always welcome - hit me up in the comments or find me on tumblr: puppyxtraining :)

It was an ordinary Saturday. Well, as ordinary as it could be when little Will was involved. And an ordinary day that brought a surprise guest to Hannibal and Will’s terrace.

A tough week at work and an unfortunate incident where Will had a gun pulled on him meant that by the time Friday night rolled around, he was tired and irritable and Hannibal knew just what he needed.

As Hannibal held him, he felt Will’s body relax in his arms.

“What do you need from me, my darling?”

A sigh as Will nuzzled his face into Hannibal’s neck and mumbled something. As much as Hannibal loved looking after little Will, he knew that, as an adult, Will was capable of great strength and resilience. So he never really pushed, only nudged.

Hannibal placed a hand on Will’s backside and patted it lightly.

“Speak up, Will. What do you need?”

Will pulled away and looked at Hannibal, innocence bursting forth as he chewed on his lower lip.

“Need daddy.”

And with that, Hannibal took Will upstairs, bathed him and then dressed him accordingly. Will had been quiet during the bath, but allowed Hannibal to diaper him and dress him in footed pyjamas.

And so Friday night and the better part of Saturday morning was spent with Will happily ensconced in his toddler mindset and Hannibal looking after his baby.

He was just about to fetch Will his morning snack when he heard a sound coming from upstairs. Will was playing in the study in his playpen, so Hannibal grabbed the baby monitor and went upstairs, rolling his sleeves as he went. The noise was coming from near Will’s room.

Hannibal paused just outside the door and heard the window slide open, followed by a thump and a soft “oof”. Hannibal recognised the voice and smiled, pushing on the door.

“Hello Matthew.”

Matty looked up from where he had landed on the floor after climbing up the trellis and through the window.

“Oh hey, hey Uncle Hannibal.”

Hannibal walked across the room to close the window and Matty shrank back, something that was noticed by Hannibal as he adjusted the curtains.

“You’ve come to see Will?”

“Yup.”

“We do have a front door, Matthew. And a doorbell.”

Hannibal gave a small smile, then sat on the bed. He patted the space next to him, and Matty sat.

“So. Would you care to explain why you chose not to use them?”

“Um. Well…I, well I heard Will was sick, so I wanted to pay him a visit.”

“I see. I’m glad to inform you, however, that Will is not sick.”

“Oh. I thought he was. Well, never mind, I’ll go home.”

Before Matty was able to get up off the bed, Hannibal put a hand on his shoulder.

“Why are you here Matthew? Are you in trouble?”

Matty sighed, knowing lying to his Uncle was of no use.

“No. I just, I just missed Will. I wanted to come play.”

“I take it your father doesn’t know you’re here?”

His eyes widened, fearful.

“Please don’t call him. He’s at work and told me not to leave the house. Please don’t tell him Uncle Hannibal!”

Hannibal felt a pang of sadness. He felt bad for Matthew, spending all that time alone in the house. No wonder he had a predilection for some perhaps more naughty behaviour.

“Alright. You can stay here. But I must tell you that Will is very little today. He won’t be able to play very much.”

Hannibal took the baby monitor from his pocket and showed it to Matthew. The monitor showed Will in his playpen. He was sucking on his thumb while using his free hand to play with some blocks.

“That’s alright. Even…even if I can just hang around. I won’t get in your way, I promise.”

“You could never be in the way, Matthew. You are always welcome here.”

“Thanks Uncle Hannibal.”

There was still that sadness there. Matthew made no move to leave the room.

“Why did you come here today?”

“Well, I wanted to play with Will.”

“…and?”

A pause. His eyes became moist and he turned away slightly.

“I was lonely in that big ol’ house, on my own. My dad…he works so hard. And I just…I just got lonely.”

A tear slid down his cheek and Matty scrubbed at his face angrily. Hannibal slid his arm around his shoulder, bringing the boy close to him.

“Oh Matthew. Poor boy. Of course you got lonely. It’s okay to be lonely sometimes. That’s why we have friends.”

“I only have Will. There’s no one else.”

“I see. Well, you have me.”

Matty looked up at him.

“You?”

“Of course. You can come to me any time.”

For the first time that day, Matty smiled.

“Thanks. Thanks Uncle Hannibal.”

“You’re welcome Matthew.”

Hannibal stood and Matty followed him as they walked downstairs, the older man placing a reassuring hand on his back.

Before they went into the study, Matty suddenly had an idea.

“Um, Uncle Hannibal? If I wanted to do something nice for my daddy, would…would you help me?”

Hannibal didn’t always think Frederick deserved it, but it wasn’t up to him to encourage or discourage what Matty wanted to do in that regard.

“I’m sure I could help. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I was thinking, he’s has been so busy lately. Maybe, what if he came home from work, and I’d already made dinner for him! A really nice, yummy, home cooked meal. Could you help?”

Hannibal smiled.

“I think I could. Come, I have something in mind. We’ll get Will and bring him into the kitchen. He can sit in his highchair and we can work something out.”

Matty beamed

They walked into the study where Will was in his playpen. When he looked up and saw Matty, he smiled and pulled his thumb from his mouth, drooling on his chin.

“Maa-yyy!”

He held his arms out and Matty went over, unlocking the gate to the playpen and hugging Will.

“Hiya Will. I missed you!”

“Mith you too.”

“C’mon, let’s go to the kitchen. Your daddy’s gunna show me how to cook!”

“Coo, coo!”

Matty took Will by the hand as he toddled alongside him to the kitchen. Hannibal had set up the high chair and Matty helped him up into it, while Hannibal buckled him in.

“Matthew, can you please pour some juice into a bottle for Will? The bottles are in the cupboard. I am going to get some of his colouring books and crayons, then we can talk about your plan for dinner.”

Matty did as he was told, filling up one of Will’s bottles with apple juice and handing it to him. He sucked it down thirstily, kicking his feet against the legs of the highchair.

Hannibal returned, putting the books and crayons down in front of Will.

“Now, Matty, what do you want to cook?”

“Um, I don’t know. We usually eat just microwave stuff. Or get takeaway.”

Hannibal wrinkled his nose at the thought as he grabbed his recipe rolodex.

“Perhaps I could help you make something, then, all you would need to do would be to put it together yourself later. Do you think you could manage that?”

Matty nodded eagerly.

“Alright. Let’s get started. I seem to remember your father has an affinity for smoked salmon.”

Hannibal winked at the boy, and they got to work.

…

To say he was tired was an understatement. 

Frederick pulled up at the house and sat in his car, not moving. He wished for teleportation, to just be whisked up to his bed and sleep until midday the next day. But wishing was for fools and children, so he hauled himself out of the car and up the front steps.

When he stepped in, the house was dark. But seconds later, the most enticing scent hit him and his mouth began to water.

“Matty?”

Before he could do anything, Matty came running down the hall. He threw his arms around Frederick.

“Hi daddy. Welcome home!”

Frederick regarded him warily. Matty usually called him dad, not daddy. And he was wearing pressed chinos and a button up shirt, rather than his usual play clothes. He had an apron around his waist, kind of like the one Hannibal wore when cooking. Matty moved around behind him and took his jacket and briefcase from him.

“What is this? What have you done?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to cook dinner for you daddy.”

Frederick frowned and unbuttoned his cuffs, rolling his sleeves up. Matty hung the blazer in the closet, resting the briefcase on the floor.

“Hang on, I need my briefcase.”

“But I made dinner daddy. Let’s eat dinner together.”

Frederick rubbed his eyes.

“I have work to do, Matty. Don’t you understand? I’ll take a plate into the study.”

Matty poked his lower lip out every so slightly and peered up through his lashes.

“Please? I miss you.”

Frederick narrowed his eyes.

“What do you mean you miss me? I see you every day! I don’t have time for this, I have editing to do on an article, and some patient files to review and…”

Matty stomped his foot on the floor.

“Stop! Enough!”

Frederick looked surprised, then angry.

“Excuse me?”

“Fuck, I just wanna spend time with you!”

Frederick brought his hand up and pointed at Matty’s face. He lowered his voice to just above a whisper. It was dangerous.

“I have told you about swearing at me, young man. Once more and so help me, I will spank you into next week.”

“Fine. I’m almost tempted, if it meant a few minutes together.”

Matty turned on his heel and stomped off to the kitchen. Frederick sighed as banging and clattering came from down the hall. He looked at his watch. It was just past 7pm. An hour or so couldn’t hurt, keep the boy quiet, then he could do his work afterwards.

When he walked into the kitchen, he noticed the dining table that sat off to the side was laid with the good crockery. There was a small vase containing some flowers from the garden, and candles had been lit, nevermind that he had forbidden Matty to use matches or lighters in the house. Frederick felt a twinge of guilt.

“You’ve gone to a lot of effort, Matty.”

“Of course I have.”

Matty poured him a beer and pushed a bowl of spiced nuts towards him.

“Sit down, daddy.”

Frederick did so, loosening his tie. He popped a handful of the nuts in his mouth, sweet at first and with a hint of spicey fire at the end.

“Mmm…these are good. Where did you buy them from?”

“I didn’t buy them. I made them.”

He almost choked on the sip of beer he took and coughed, wiping his mouth with his handkerchief.

“You? Made these?”

Matty was taking things out of the oven, chopping things on a cutting board. Frederick craned his neck to see what he was doing.

“Yup. Well, not the nuts themselves. Obviously.”

“Obviously. Do you, uh, do you need a hand with anything?”

“No, you sit down. I know you’ve had a long day.”

Frederick continued to munch on the nuts, which were decidedly moreish.

“Tell me about it. Your daddy works very hard.”

“I know.”

Matty came over with a platter of small pancakes, each draped with a coral slice of smoked salmon.

“What are these?”

“They are, um…”

Matty scurried back to the bench to the menu Hannibal had written out in his elegant cursive.

“…they are buckwheat blinis with smoked salmon and dill cream.”

He took a bite of one and closed his eyes. The small pancake was pillow-soft. The cool cream melted on his tongue and the salmon was silky smooth and tasted like the ocean. He groaned.

“This is incredible. You really made this?”

Matty sat down opposite him and popped one on his mouth.

“Well, no. Uncle Hannibal helped. But I did most of it.”

Frederick reached for another.

“I don’t care. It’s amazing. Hats of to Hannibal, he sure knows how to cook.”

When the look of disappointment crossed Matty’s face, Frederick was quick to correct his mistake.

“I mean, sure, he knows how to cook and all. But you put this together, right? And you know I liked smoked salmon.”

The boy beamed, blushed and nodded.

“I know it’s your favourite.”

“Well, it’s delicious.”

The oven timer pinged and Matty jumped up, taking something out of the oven. He scurried to the fridge to get the salad and put it on the table, next to a small jug of homemade dressing and a basket of sourdough bread. Then, carefully, he brought the tart over to the table, the steam rising and Frederick taking an appreciative sniff.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a cheese and onion tart, with some cherry tomatoes in there too. And a green salad with herbs.”

Matty picked up the knife and Frederick stood up.

“Sit down Matty, let me serve.”

“No, it’s okay daddy. I can do it.”

Frederick shook his head.

“Please, let me. You’ve gone to a lot of work here. Besides, it’s a sharp knife, I wouldn’t want you to have an accident with it.”

Matty sat, liking the slight feeling of helplessness and being given instruction.

Frederick sliced up the tart, placing a piece on Matty’s plate, then on his own. He dished out the salad and bit into a piece of bread.

“I’m sorry I had to work today Matty. I know it’s Saturday, and weekends are important. But, well…sometimes these things come up.”

“It’s okay. But I guess, I’d like maybe to spend more time with you.”

As he said this, he ducked his head and took a bite of the tart. Frederick nodded. Before he could say anything else, Matty spoke again.

“Daddy? Do you….do you sometimes wish I was more like Will?”

“How do you mean?”

Matty shrugged, reaching for his glass of juice.

“I dunno. Do you wish I was littler?”

Frederick ate some of the tart and chewed it thoughtfully.

“No. Not particularly. Why? Do you want to be littler?”

Matty shrugged. Frederick sighed.

“If you want some of things that Will has, I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement.”

“It’s not that I want to be littler. But, it’s that….well, sometimes I think…”

“Spit it out Matty. If there’s something you want, just say it.”

“Uncle Hannibal loves Will so much. Sometimes I’m not sure that you do.”

Frederick put his cutlery down and took another sip of beer. That feeling of guilt settled in his stomach, along with the delicious food he had just eaten.

“You know I love you Matty. Very much. I’m…I’m sorry I’m not as, perhaps, demonstrative as your Uncle Hannibal.”

Silence. A tear rolled down Matty’s face. Frederick cleared his throat.

“But if you want those things that Will has, you just need to ask, and I’m sure we can work something out.”

“I don’t want to be a baby. I don’t want to be as little as Will. I want to be me and I want you to be my daddy. That’s all.”

Frederick gave a small smile and reached over, placing his hand on Matty’s cheek, stroking it with his thumb.

“I want to be your daddy. And I want you to be my boy. If you want to be littler from time to time, that’s fine too. But I love you the way you are, Matty. You must know that.”

It was all Matty needed to hear. A grin broke across his face and he left his chair, standing beside Frederick and leaning down to hug him.

“Oh my boy. Come here.”

And with that, Frederick pulled him down and into his lap. Matty put his head on his shoulder and breathed in his scent, fine aftershave mixed with the subtle scent of the hospital.

They stayed like that for a minute or two, until Matty popped his head up.

“Oh, Uncle Hannibal and I made ice-cream!”

“Dessert too? I am being spoiled. Why don’t you go through to the lounge room and get a DVD ready. We can eat it while we watch a movie, and it will give me a chance to digest all that delicious food and clean up a bit in here.”

“You sure? I can help!”

“I know. But it’s only fair; you’ve put a lot of work into the dinner. Go on, I’ll be through shortly.”

He patted Matty on the backside and he climbed off his lap and ran through to the lounge room. Frederick smiled and began to clear up, putting dishes in the dishwasher and wrapping the leftovers up to go in the refrigerator.

Before he went through to see Matty, he sent a text message to Hannibal.

_Thanks for helping Matty with the dinner. It was delicious. Chilton._

A response almost immediately.

_You’re welcome. He’s a good boy your Matthew. H._

_I know. Thanks. Chilton._

He wiped his hands on a tea towel and turned the lights out.

“Okay Matty, who’s ready for…?”

He was about to say ‘ice-cream’, but stopped when he saw Matty curled up, fast asleep on the couch, the TV screen showing the menu for the latest Minions movie.

Frederick crept closer and noticed, with another tug at his heart, that Matty was sucking his thumb. He sighed and grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over the sleeping boy.

Frederick sat on the couch and Matty instinctively moved closer, so his head was resting in his daddy’s lap. He sighed and nuzzled his face into his thigh.

“Shhh, a dormir mi pequeño querido*.”

Frederick took the remote and put the news on, keeping it muted and running his fingers through Matty’s hair, hoping that the resolution to spend more time with him was one he could keep. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> *translates to ‘Sleep my little darling’. (Thanks to darling Telera for the correction :D )


End file.
